


Introduction to Postmodern Feminist Entanglements

by Calliatra



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F, Getting Together, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-28 04:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliatra/pseuds/Calliatra
Summary: Five moments across six years in the tangled mess of Britta Perry and Jennifer Winger.





	Introduction to Postmodern Feminist Entanglements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [felix814](https://archiveofourown.org/users/felix814/gifts).

The infuriating thing about Jennifer Winger is… everything. Every little thing about her sets Britta’s hackles to rising, if that’s what hackles do, and if it’s not anti-dog to say that. (She prefers cats, but that’s a completely personal thing. Dogs are good, especially the service kind, and it would be wrong to say anything against them.)

“You’re a traitor to womankind, you know that, right?” It’s an insult so offensive that it could have started a definitely-not-cat fight on the spot in any of Britta’s old friend groups, and she only ever deploys it in the direst of situations.

Jenn has the gall to just raise an eyebrow. Damn that woman to hell. Except not really, because hell isn’t real, and more importantly, it was designed as the ultimate threat to intimidate early female revolutionaries into meek compliance with the oppressive ruling system.

But still: damn Jennifer Winger. Damn her and her way of looking so ridiculously sexy in her I-care-just-the-right-amount-about-my-looks business casual wear and flawless I-look-this-way-naturally makeup. Damn her and the way she can pitch her voice just so, the way she gets to be confident and commanding without anyone calling it shrill, and the way she uses all that to turn men on enough that they’ll do what she says and think it was their idea. If that’s not gender treason she doesn’t know what is.

“No, I’m not,” Jenn says, and arches a perfect eyebrow on her face, and somehow in her tone of voise, too. That’s just unfair. “I wanted something, and I went out and got it. I’m pretty sure that’s called feminism. And the fact that you can’t stand to see me succeed just because I use different methods from you makes _you_ the traitor to the sisterhood.”

And _that’s_ the thing about Jenn Winger that really, _really_ drives her crazy when it comes down to it. The way she can take everything Britta believes and turns it back against her warped and so unfair until _Britta_ is somehow the bad guy – gal – here. All while constantly getting away with everything she wants.

Jenn Winger is a real _b- …bastard_.

* * *

It’s another day, and another argument in the study room. The rest of the group have long since stopped paying attention to them.

“Oh, stop pretending to be so much more enlightened than the rest of us!” Jenn snaps, and Britta would be proud of getting her to drop her calm and superior act if she weren’t also so infuriated right now. “You can say ‘gay people are just normal people’ all you want, but you go so far overboard in in your little charade that you circle right back around to awkward before it even has a chance to wave goodbye.”

“No I don’t! And that metaphor doesn’t make any sense! I don’t care about people’s sexual orientations. We’re all people, it’s all love, it’s all fine! And, and… it’s fine,” Britta concludes, running out of steam just a bit too early, in the way that always makes her want to throw something at Jenn.

Jenn rolls her eyes in a way that has Britta actually looking around for something throw-able. “If a lesbian hit on you, you would jump out of your look-at-how-much-I-don’t-care leather jackets so fast that cartoon animals would be jealous.”

“Would not!”

“Would too! You can pretend all you like, but we all know you’re nowhere near as cool as you think you are.”

“And you’re not as hot as you think you are!”

That, at least, Britta notes with satisfaction, takes Jenn aback for an angry second. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” Britta snaps, and kisses her.

Jenn chokes, and grabs at her in a way that’s definitely for balance, and then doesn’t push her away, probably because she’s still off balance.

Britta pulls away, and Jenn gapes.

“See!” Britta points out, triumphantly. “I’m not uncomfortable, _you_ are!”

“No I’m not,” Jenn bites out, snapping back into herself. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

“Like anyone believes that,” Britta scoffs.

“I’ll _make_ you believe it,” Jenn hisses, and slams her mouth against Britta’s.

In the background, Shirley slides Pierce a small piles of bills.

* * *

“I really hate her.”

“No you don’t,” Abed says, much too calmly.

“Yes I do!” Britta insists.

“No you don’t.” And now he’s slid into _knowingly_, and it’s so irritating, but also, somehow, a comfort. “You’re jealous of what you think of as her unfair good looks, and the way she uses them to make people make people follow her lead even when she’s leading in a stupid or selfish direction, but most of all the way she can go after what she wants and still get nearly anyone to like her. And you’re angry at her not just for being a bad feminist, but for making you feel competitive towards her, which you think makes you a bad feminist, too. Plus, you’re kind of attracted to her in a way you don’t want to think about or acknowledge, and that makes you insecure, which is the last thing you want to be around her.”

“None of that is true,” Britta mumbles, mainly to the carpet. Out of the three of them, it’s the one she has the best chance of convincing.

“Despite all of that, you really like her. You like the person she’s become at Greendale, and you like having her as a friend. If you didn’t, she wouldn’t have the power to frustrate you this much.”

“I hate you,” Britta says, without any conviction.

“Mm,” Abed hums. “You’re really bad at saying these things like you mean them, you know. And coming from _me_, that should probably worry you.”

* * *

Things get dark, for a while. Then things get crazy dark, and then just crazy, and all of them change, not always for the better.

“Thanks,” Jenn says, somewhere in one of their more clear-headed moments. “For having my back.”

“Of course,” Britta says, and means it. “Always. Well, _almost_ always.”

Eventually, they find their way back into a brighter present.

* * *

In the end, or what feels like _an_ end, at least, it’s just the two of them left. Annie’s texted to say she’s arrived safely in D.C., and that she’s texted Abed to remind him to text them once he’s safely landed, too. Jenn and Britta have been drinking steadily ever since.

“This really isn’t the outcome I was expecting,” Jenn says, “back when I enrolled at Greendale.”

“It probably should have been,” Britta says, because hindsight is… something.

“It’s not that I don’t like Frankie, or the Dean, or–“

“I know,” Britta says, because she does. “They’re just not our family. Yet. Not like-“

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while, staring at their drinks, and resisting the urge to down them in one gulp.

“You know what’s good about this, though?” Jenn asks suddenly.

“What?”

“I don’t care anymore. I mean, I do care, about more than is good for me, really, but. Not about the things I used to care about. You know?”

“Yeah,” Britta says, because she thinks she does.

“So,” Jenn says, too clearly for someone four drinks into the evening, “would you like to go out sometime? Properly? On, on a date?”

“Yeah,” Britta says, and prepares herself for a long and drawn-out argument about where to go and what to do. It feels right in a way that tugs a smile onto her face. “But I pick the restaurant.”


End file.
